


be it the first rush of blood in your cheeks

by turnip (calculus)



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Crushes, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 01:54:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15595635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calculus/pseuds/turnip
Summary: A kiss, done two-fold.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> if it looks familiar, it's because it is! [from here](https://curiouscat.me/calculus/post/294075721), in particular.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a first kiss;

Soonyoung stumbles into Wonwoo's room, dazed and dreamily, only breaking the expression in a startled yelp when he bangs his knee against the side of Wonwoo's desk.

"What's wrong with you?" Wonwoo asks, staring up from his fifth sentence of 'fuck this homework' of his essay draft. Soonyoung rubs his knee with a moue before hobbling to Wonwoo's unmade bed.

"I had some great news, but then your desk tried to kill me," Soonyoung complains, stretching his legs out, ignoring Wonwoo's pained grunt about his dirty sneakers.

"Because obviously everything in this room is out to get you," Wonwoo deadpans, shifting himself so that he straddles his chair to face Soonyoung. "What's the good news?"

Soonyoung blushes and sits up. "Wonwoo. Jeon Wonwoo. Wonwoo-yah—"

"Yes, that's my name; I'm glad you know it. Get on with it."

"...I got my first kiss." Soonyoung bites his lip, widening his eyes and waits for Wonwoo's response, eager.

"Oh. Oh." Wonwoo blinks rapidly and then looks away, dropping his eyes back onto his opened notebook. ' _fuck this homework_ ' looks back at him, black and thickening the longer he stares.

"Well? Yah, Wonwoo? Are we ignoring this momentous step in my love life?" Soonyoung whines, and Wonwoo shakes out of his daze. He does his best to smile, but it's a pained one at best.

Soonyoung doesn't seem to notice.

"Congratulations, then. You've been moaning about this for ages," Wonwoo says, clearing his throat. His hands drop to his lap, toying with the edges of his sweatshirt sleeves. He clears his throat again. "Who, uh, who was it?"

Soonyoung raises his hands up, open palms in the air like an offering. "Taemin-sunbaenim! It was Taemin-sunbaenim, Wonwoo, god!"

Christ. The dance major with the slick moves and idol-aura. Wonwoo feels sick.

"I'm glad for you," he croaks, watching as Soonyoung squeals and clutches a pillow. "Really glad."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a free-fall exercise;

Soonyoung walks down the stairs slowly, edging each foot down a step with a wary touch before setting down, as he balances a stack of textbooks higher than his own head with straining arms. He has to stretch his neck out as far as he can to see the next step, but as the staircase narrows and turns, all he can rely on are his short footsteps. He prays to anyone listening that he gets down this stairwell in one piece.

Instead, he trips on an untied lace.

His arms pinwheel, books already a lost cause, and Soonyoung stumbles and trips, twisting an ankle easily, and down below at the bottom of the staircase, he finally sees the small, startled figure of a horrified Wonwoo staring, just making his first steps up.

The last thing Soonyoung thinks before he squeezes his eyes shut and falls is that at least Wonwoo would be willing to help him cart around his books for the foreseeable future.

But instead of the painful tumble he'd been expecting, Soonyoung flails into a warm body, bony elbows and forearms digging into him and knocking the breath out of his chest before cradling him, and he knocks his teeth against sharp collarbones in their scramble to hit a safer landing.

They roll, him and Wonwoo—because who else is this bony and dumb to catch him in free-fall, that idiot—and Soonyoung smashes several knuckles and his knees against hard tile before it stops.

Soonyoung is in extreme pain, the blooming of needle-sharp agony from his body that he knows he'll have to pay for, but he's whole and still conscious, gift enough. He huffs out a crazed laugh and sets his head down hard, and scrapes teeth against an open mouth, a mockery of a kiss.

It tastes like blood and exhilaration.

**Author's Note:**

> there isn't rly an ending to this because they were originally just cc responses, but i thought it'd be a nice stylistic choice, ultimately, to leave it unfinished also because it mirrors the relationship itself, which is a developing mess.
> 
> but also i'm just Really Really Lazy


End file.
